A Blessed Event

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Vol 35 Issue 45

Pregame Prayer

Citing separation of church and state, a Texas judge recently banned students at a Galveston high school from praying before home football games. The case is being appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court. What do you think about pregame prayer?

CD Club Somehow Tracks Down Local Woman

CAMDEN, NJ—Despite moving four times in the past four years and switching credit cards twice, Liz Brower was somehow tracked down Monday by BMG Music Service. "Wow, I thought for sure I'd lost them," said Brower, who still owes $19.11 for Belly's King—the featured alternative-rock selection for November 1995—which she received after failing to fill out her response card in time. "Those guys really know how to find a person." Brower is also on the run from Columbia House, to whom she owes $41.04 for Soul Asylum's Grave Dancers Union and Toad The Wet Sprocket's Dulcinea.

Wondrous World Of Fishes Last Checked Out 4/17/67

INDIANOLA, MS—According to a report from a pair of bored teens, The Wondrous World Of Fishes was last checked out of the Indianola Public Library on April 17, 1967. "Hey, check it out—this one's been here since '67," Brad McEvoy, 14, told friend Todd Tyler, 13, while trying to find the library book with the longest unborrowed streak Monday. "Dude, that's like 30 years." Despite the disuse, Houghton-Mifflin, the book's publisher, said it stands behind The Wondrous World Of Fishes, calling it "an exciting, educational look at life beneath the sea."

AAA Member Pulled First From Car Crash

YAKIMA, WA—American Automobile Association member Janet Klugh enjoyed one of the many perks of membership in the organization Monday, when she was pulled first from the wreckage of a violent two-car collision on Hwy. C. "It was wonderful," Klugh said. "Even though the driver of the other car was more seriously injured, pinned beneath the wheel with her left lung collapsed, the AAA paramedics helped me first." Klugh also enjoyed free bandages and a TripTik® with directions to a local hospital.

Area Man Finally In Enough Pain To Go To Doctor

WICHITA FALLS, TX—After three days of steadily increasing discomfort, local resident James Furness, 46, was finally in enough pain Monday to have his sprained right ankle examined by a doctor. "Fuck it, I give," said Furness, who twisted the ankle while mowing his lawn Friday. "I thought it might go away by itself, or just with a little ice, but the bastard's all swollen up like a cow's." After driving 12 miles to his doctor's office using only his left foot, Furness was subjected to a 20-minute lecture from his physician on the importance of prompt medical attention.

Entire House Implicated By Phish Poster

ALBANY, NY—A large Phish poster decorating the living room of a four-bedroom apartment on Broome Street has come under fire from the apartment's three non-Phish-supporting roommates, sources revealed Tuesday. "Because of Ryan's poster, everybody who comes over here automatically assumes that I'm a big, Phish-loving hippie," resident Douglas Beckert, 20, said of the 4'x6' "Picture Of Nectar" wall hanging. "Certain posters, you can hang in a living room without people making assumptions about your lifestyle, but not this one." Beckert has advocated replacing the Phish poster with one of The Beatles or Pink Floyd.

The Belfast Accord

On Dec. 7, power in Northern Ireland was transferred from London to Belfast, ending 27 years of direct rule by Britain. What are the terms of the agreement?
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Man Commits To New TV Show Just Hours After Getting Out Of 7-Season Series

UNION CITY, NJ—Recommending that he give himself the chance to pause and explore the other options out there, friends of local man Jonathan Gember expressed their concerns to reporters Wednesday that the 29-year-old is already committing to a new television show just hours after getting out of a seven-season-long series.

A Blessed Event

I have just received a telegram from my mistress and sweet-heart, Miss Bernadette Fiske, that says she has given birth to a bouncing baby boy of my own siring, and that I should please send more money. I am a papa once again! Huzzah!

I realize that this joyous news may confuse regular readers of the Message, since I under-took my romantic friendship with Miss Fiske just two months ago and we have never actually mingled our procreative appendages or even laid eyes on one another. But through-out my long existence, I have learned that life often takes unexpected twists and turns, and who am I to question it?

As soon as I received the happy tidings, I put the servants to work decorating the old nursery where my other sons were raised. Of course, it had not been employed for that purpose for the better part of a century, having long ago been converted into a charnel-house for the shriveled corpses of my enemies.

But in my moment of paternal joy, a most unusual thing happened that threatened to mar the other-wise gay proceedings. My man-servant Standish, whom I had charged to over-see the nursery's preparation, broke from his duties and burst into my bed chamber. "Sir," he sputtered, "please excuse my impertinence, but as your loyal servant, I can no longer restrain my sentiments. I greatly fear that for some time you have been the victim of a confidence-trickster. I submit that not only is Miss Fiske lying about the existence of an infant of your parentage, but it is very likely that there is no Miss Fiske at all, and that an anonymous rogue has bereft you of a small fortune. In the name of God, sir, I implore you to sever all ties with this beastly scoundrel immediately and end your unwitting participation in this cruel and tragic charade."

For a while, I sat stunned. Then I decided Standish was just jealous of my virility. That, and he probably also harbored a lingering resentment about the fact that I sold his only son into indentured servitude aboard a merchant marine sloop. Although rather peeved by Standish's audacity, I decided to show mercy and commanded him to return to decorating the nursery.

I wish to conclude by assuring my readers that I fully intend to wed Miss Fiske and rescue my son from bastardry. The boy will find a silver spoon eternally shoved down his throat. Perhaps I have become softer in my dotage, but I am determined that my child won't have to suffer the hard-ships I experienced during my hardscrabble pioneer boyhood. I think I will name him N. Aeschylus.

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